He moved to the place where we were ten years ago Where the yellow wallpaper used to fall from the wall He wore a golden watch which said quarter to twelve He said, "I need some dust on my Dior, Gucci, Chanel"
Tonight a glass of wine will stick in his hand He'll look at greasy artists and then later he'll dance Tryin' to look bored with a glance at his friends For sure he's still got enough cash in his pants
I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be bad than a prominent man
Six o' clock in the morning and I got him on my back Smelling like pineapple and breathing down my neck Telling me that the minister's daughter lies in his bed Well, well, well, you can't always want what you get
He says, "You guys always need some money, don't you? How about painting my walls in light blue?" I say, "No, Mr Philistine", and he goes home again Writing in his diary, he's depressive again
I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be mad than a prominent man
Prominent man
I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be dead than a prominent man
I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be mad than a prominent man
I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be dead than a prominent man I'd rather be glad